


we're on the verge of everything, you and i

by brightpyrite



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Thor: Ragnarok (2017), Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-12 00:01:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12946899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightpyrite/pseuds/brightpyrite
Summary: There's not very much to see nor do on a ship full of refugees, in truth. Everyone's trying to find solace in new places, and you suspect there's something terribly bizarre beginning under the radar between you and the king of Asgard-- something that might just be the solace you never thought you'd seek.





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> i'm gonna try my best to a) make a slow burn here and b) actually finish this series so enjoy my dudes

No one seemed to eat much these quiet days. Certainly you hadn't at least-- you simply couldn't bring yourself to open a package of ready-to-eat beans while looking down at the huddled crowds of fatigued, hungry Asgardians on the floors. It just didn't seem right, regardless of how those beans tasted. Probably of nothingness anyway.

You came from Sakaar-- or rather, you ended up on Sakaar through strange, strange events, much like how a piece of junk would arrive on the planet. You did kind of like the Grandmaster though, kind of like a quirky uncle you once had.

The Asgardians typically regarded you with silent acknowledgement and you do the same, so sometimes you sit with them, hearing the dull gossip of the day. After all, there's only so much one can do on an overcrowded ship with limited resources. They talk of their leader (a lot, you might add), and every once in a while you do see him around. A sturdy man with an eyepatch who seemed to be respected by absolutely everyone onboard, and yet, there was a certain humble quality about him.

You knew of him prior though (back when he had two eyes), watching him live in the arena, battling away. You aren't too fond of that memory, because you distinctly recall betting for him, losing, and having to vanish to avoid paying the fellow spectators at the bar. It was, yet again, another reason to never put trust in the seemingly underdogs. But other than that, he appeared to be a genuinely great king.

That's what you think, at least, since you have never actually talked to him. He hovers among his own people most of the time: the warrior, a particularly exhausted fellow human, Korg, and Loki.

Loki.

He was the first of the bunch to meet you. You, a bored station worker for the Sakaaran ships, who decided to join his little escapade so you could do what was needed to be done and return to Earth. Your home of which you haven't seen in years. Why you hadn't hijacked a ship earlier and gone yourself, you had no idea. You needed a catalyst it seemed.

Of course, this "little escapade" turned out to be incredibly large, and to be honest, you do regret it slightly. You are, however, surprised he let you hop on in the first place.

Actually, Loki didn't consent.  
You had threatened to alert security unless he take you with him, and he had threatened to kill you (albeit a half-assed threat since he was in a hurry). All in all, he obliged, but the second the ship took flight, you were deathly afraid he would, at any second, kick you out the escape hatch. He didn't, thankfully, but the ride to Asgard was a drag. 

His mind seemed to be swimming with thoughts, and you just let him be, turning on the on switch for him and immediately taking the backseat. It wasn't that you were an incredibly talkative person to start with, but you didn't blame him even though he was kind of rude. Despite that nature, he was so incredibly, incredibly good looking, you didn’t really take offense.

Instead you talked to the creature of rock, Korg, who was fairly nice.

Looking back you did find it fairly strange that these two fellows were traveling together.

After a day or two after the destruction of Asgard, where the mourning of the Asgardians' homeworld began to fade, Korg had offered to introduce you to Thor, calling him something along the lines of "fine guy" and "almost perverse." Despite the interest, you shied away. (“Ask him out to eat or something,” said Korg, shrugging. A pebble pops off his shoulder. “Maybe like, to some beans.” You look at him peculiarly. “He probably has his own stash somewhere, that would hardly be fair.”) Regardless, whether it was due to his overwhelming title or his aura, you rejected any encounter with Thor, the alleged god of thunder.

In bizarre fashion, you found yourself gradually becoming comfortable with the Valkyrie and Bruce instead. Bruce had told you he too was from Earth, an incredibly well-known scientist, but that drew a blank in your mind. Regardless, you were grateful to see another human who understood you.

Loki seemed to soften these days, you think. Sometimes you'd pass him by in the wide corridors, and though you desperately keep your eyes forward to avoid any awkward interaction and possible harm, he greets you simply. Maybe you yourself had accidentally invented this stiffness between you two, but regardless this was how it was.

It could've been that, that propelled your anxiety whenever he was in your proximity, or the fact that Bruce had let you know Loki was a well-known almost-dictator who killed dozens of civilians. In turn, you were less inclined to consider him good-looking. Not being the warrior type, some days you dreamed of a peaceful life, being a simple sheep herder in some northern climate where the summers are dewy and the winters are sharp and beautiful. Or even a potato farmer. You do love some good fries.

Truly, you just wanted to get back to Earth. And when Thor had said that was the destination of the ship, that excited you to no end. You missed eating its food incredibly. You sighed at the thought of eating a corndog at a carnival, and looked out the window into the abyss of stars and cosmos momentarily before shutting your eyes, leaning against the spaceship’s walls and hearing the vibrations. You couldn't wait to feel human again, not some nomadic outcast in space. Bruce already vowed to show you around New York City. A city that never sleeps, he says.

Perfect, you say in response.

Also, he says, we’ve gotten a lot of alien attacks over there these years, actually, so... beware.

Oh, you say.

We’ve got some amazing restaurants though. Still worth it, I think, he says.

You agree completely. 

With your eyes still shut, you slide down until you’re sitting on the cold floors. You wonder if you could take a nap right there, at the end of the corridor on the floor, and no one would interrupt you or take whatever belongings you had on you, like your pocketknife. Or worse, the lemon candies you’ve been saving for days in your right pocket.

Something pinches your leg, and you jolt awake, stumbling up from the ground.

“What the fuck!” you shout, prying Miek off your leg. “What the fuck! Korg!” Miek yips.

You hear the crackling of rocks before you see him appear in the corridor. “Wow, I was looking for him, thanks! Didn’t know where he went. Silly Miek.” Korg scoops him up as you make a silent reminder to take a boiling hot bath later. 

“If you let him run off all the time, he’s going to get squashed,” you warn. Yeah, you say mentally, by me.

“Don’t say that, you’ll scare him,” says Korg who pets his insect friend gently. After a silent moment, he looks back up. “Are you hungry? Me and the friends back there are having a party, you should join us.”

“Party?” you say. “Even though we don’t have enough food in supply?”

He shrugs. “I guess. Wanna come along?”

You think for a quick moment. “Sure.” 

You hope desperately there are corndogs.


	2. to meet

“So you’re from Earth too, like Bruce?”

You nod, taking a sip of your drink and forcing yourself to not gag. You were never much of a drinker and only really went to the local bar for the exceptional savory crepes they sometimes served. “Haven’t been there for a while though.”

“I like it,” offers Thor. “It’s not a bad place. Way better than Sakaar though, no offense.” He glances at Valkyrie, who simply shrugs from the couch.

“None taken,” you say, and she nods to this. Despite being from the same planet and both working under the Grandmaster, you never had met her before. After all, there was no reason for either of your positions to cross.

“So, then, why’d you leave Midgard?” asks Thor. "Or I mean, Earth."

“Oh,” you say, “it’s kind of a long story, I guess.” More like a strange one really, but you weren’t about to confess your life story to a complete (albeit friendly) stranger.

Before he gets to respond however, Valkyrie juts in. “Hey, hey. Let them relax, they just came in here! No need for an interrogation. Want another drink?” She beckons you forward to sit down. You politely decline the offer for a drink as any more you feel like you’d rather drop dead.

“I wasn’t about to say anything,” says Thor, frowning.

“You were thinking it,” she responds hotly.

You sit down with comfortable distance from her and stare down at the table in front of you, that was littered with bottles. What kind of party didn’t have food and instead only have alcohol? Not your kind of party.

“Where’s Bruce?” you say upon realization that he wasn’t around.

“He said he’ll be down in a bit,” says Thor, over his shoulder. “What are your thoughts on the Avengers?”

“The who?” you say.

“Yeah,” says Valkyrie, “who?”

“You don’t know who the Avengers are?” he says, brows raised.

“Like I said, it’s been a while since I’ve been back to Earth. Maybe three, four years?” you mumble in reply.

“We— em, they’ve been around four years ago though?”

Suddenly you hear a loud sigh. “Didn’t you hear anything of what the Grandmaster said— time passes differently on Sakaar. Slower.” Turning to your right, you face Loki’s backside as he turns outward to observe the stars.

"He's right," you offer into the air. "I guess it's been longer, but I don't know the exact length."

Thor scoffs into his glass. “I’m surprised you heard anything when you were so busy kissing his ass, Loki.” He pauses to take a sip. “Metaphorically.” He chuckles.

You couldn’t see his expression, but ten bucks said Loki was rolling his eyes. Valkyrie almost spits out her drink beside you and you offer your handkerchief.

“Well, that’s kind of crude,” says Korg from the floor. Miek chews on a shard of glass through what appears (what you _hope_ ) to be his mouth.

Thor’s laugh fades as the silence in the room becomes palpable. “I was joking, if you guys couldn’t tell. I have no idea he was up to on that planet before I arrived. Why, should I be concerned or something?” You sank deep into the sofa cushion, incredibly puzzled as to why Korg invited you out to some mead tasting party.

“I _thought_ this get-together was going to be us discussing our plans when we reach Earth,” says Loki, finally turning around, a champagne flute in his hand. “And I was so close to taking the planet over before you arrived, actually.”

“Right, anyway. So, everyone,” says Thor, finally sitting down. He sits on the couch directly across from you and Valkyrie and you attempt to look everywhere but him. You took a hearty gulp and wonder how was it that he was so wildly handsome. It's somewhat bizarre. He claps his hands together loudly and looks around. “Any suggestions as to what we’ll do?”

You didn’t feel right in this conference. You were no Asgardian representative, just a stowaway aboard a ship, and it would be excruciatingly dickish of you to put your priorities above hundreds of refugees, even you knew that.

You open your mouth to speak, but suddenly the door hums open and everyone’s heads turn.

“Bruce!” says Korg. “Glad you could make it.”

“Couldn’t think of an excuse not to,” says Bruce, glancing around the room. Upon seeing you, he quirks his brows. “Nice seeing you here.”

“You too,” you say.

Upon seeing Loki on the other hand, he pauses. "Is he like... safe now?" You were admittedly slightly relieved Bruce asked that question in your stead.

"I'm not a brute, Bruce," Loki says simply, and downs his champagne. "I'm not going to attack you at a civil conference."

"Right," says Bruce hesitantly, and runs a hand through his dark hair. "It wouldn't be unlike you," you think you hear him say under his breath, but then turning to Thor, he says, "At the speed we're going at right now, it's going to take us a while before we reach Earth. This ship-- I don't think it was meant for long-distance travel, much less intergalactic."

Thor takes that in quietly, nodding thoughtfully. All of a sudden he gets up and walks off, everyone's eyes trailing his movements. He pays everyone no mind as he downs the rest of a bottle in the still atmosphere. You frown, unsettled by this behavior, but when you look over at Valkyrie, she's giving Thor an approving look. Oh God, you think, this spaceship is led by a bunch of alcoholics.

"Alright," he clears his throat, "I'll check inventory later today."

"I'll go," says Loki, loudly. "Since we're clearly not getting anywhere in this discussion." He takes a glance at you. "They know these sorts of ships well, so they'll come with me."

"No," says Valkyrie, jaw locked. "I'll come with you, I know these ships like the back of my hand. You weren't the only one who got perks from the ol' Grandmaster."

Loki only heaves a sigh. "If you'll excuse us, then," he mutters.

"Now?" says Thor, "Brother, wait--" But it's too late.

"Don't worry, your Majesty," Valkyrie clicks her tongue, jogging out. "I'll keep an eye on him." 

"I'm... I think I'll go get a bite to eat in the kitchen," Bruce finally says, breaking the quiet. "Anyone want anything?"

"Miek?" asks Korg, gently, almost cooing. You're greatly discomforted by this but try not to show it. "Want anything to eat?"

Miek squeaks in response, and Korg looks up at Bruce before getting up himself. "That's a yes."

"Alright!" says Bruce, almost forcibly. "Let's go, then. You guys sure though?"

Thor only shakes his head and you follow suit. You definitely do, but for some reason you simply cannot bring yourself to leave just yet. Worse off, you know you've just trapped yourself in a conversation with Thor, and there's nothing you can do about it now. You lean back deliberately, and you notice his gaze waver on and off.

“Um,” you say, not really sure what you’re about to say, but it successfully captures Thor’s attention.

“Hm?”

“What was Asgard like?” you inquire, and then stiffen. "I'm sorry, if that's inappropriate right now and--"

“Oh, Asgard?” His gaze softens. “Beautiful, of course. Fit for gods.”

"Golden kingdom, great weather, beautiful people?" you ask absentmindedly, stirring up the setting of every fairytale legend ever in your thoughts. You did see a glimpse of Asgard when the spaceship arrived to call aboard all the citizens, but at that point the kingdom was already shrouded in darkness, and the frosty air bit your skin. It's difficult to imagine it as a paradise, but he clearly saw a certain beauty in his home that you never got to see.

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess," you say. You fish out two lemon candies from your pocket, and present one wordlessly to him. He takes it kindly but you notice he doesn't eat it. "So how do you like Earth? Is it nice these days?"

"There's some incredible things on Earth-- technology, people. It's-- you know, they have portable devices that they use to contact each other with, phones? Have you heard of these?"

"Yes, I know what phones are," you say. 

"But a tragedy is that sometimes in a dire situation, you need this thing called Wi-Fi to make the calls, which is a nuisance," he continues, "but I think this ship has it."

Your heart practically stops and you feel faint. "This ship has Wi-Fi?" Your mouth hangs agape. 

"Yeah, Bruce Banner managed to unlock it or something, I don't really know."

"Oh my God?" you continue to stammer. "I need to thank him immediately, what the hell? All these years I've been living off Sakaaran technology when there was still Wi-Fi access on that damn planet?" You bury your face in your hands, feeling dizzy with irritation for both the government and yourself. You've been meaning to start a blog after getting back to Earth, but maybe that goal was closer to achieve than you thought it would be.

He pours himself another glass from the last bottle of alcohol. "Excited, aren't you? I knew of a woman who loved these sorts of things."

Knew? "Oh, I'm sorry to hear," you hear yourself saying. In the back of your mind, you have no idea what you're apologizing for.

Most likely equally confused, Thor nods deliberately. "I appreciate it, but it's quite alright. I'm over it."

Well, at least he's honest.

“Here, smell this,” says Thor out of the blue, handing you his glass of mead. “Do you think it’s fragrant?” You stare at him, startled, but he just blinks at you. 

You pause before taking a quick sniff of his drink. A soft “Oh!” escapes you. It’s surprisingly sickly sweet and smells faint of honey. “It’s nice.” Not nice enough to digest, on the other hand. You hand it quickly back to him, but he refuses.

“Try it. You look like you’d enjoy a well-made drink,” he encourages brightly, and you almost can hear your stomach groan in response. You wonder how long these beverages have been fermenting on the ship before Thor and Valkyrie got to them.

“Oh, no, I’ve had enough, I think–”

“You sure?”

“Maybe next time,” you say, a little more pressed this time, and this time he obliges quietly. Right after this leaves your mouth, you realize this suggests that there even _is_ a next time. You hope desperately he doesn’t take this the wrong way. "I didn't eat yet, so...."

"Is that right? You should've gone with Bruce, then." He gets up. "I don't know what we have in the pantry, but I can go check for you, if you'd like."

"Oh, no, it's fine, I'm planning on going back to my room and just, you know, knocking out," you respond breezily, putting your empty flute down and standing up.

He furrows his brows. "Knocking out what?"

"Knocking out wh-- taking a nap, I mean." It’s coming to you at an alarming rate that he just offered you to drink out of his glass. You, a complete stranger. If it just so happens he does this to all his acquaintances, you tell yourself, you’re going to steer clear away from him then on. You don't know if it's possible for a god to carry communicable diseases but if it _is_ possible, you'd probably die. Legitimately, and you can't risk that. Not now, at least, while Earth was just so close. "It's been great meeting you though."

"You as well," he says warmly, and takes your hand in his, pulling it upward. In a flash of panic and as if you see through slow-motion lenses, you grab on and shake his hand firmly-- almost violently, even. 

"Goodnight," you blurt by default, despite knowing that there are no such things as day and nights in space. You withdraw your hand gently. "I'll see you around, alright?"

He lowers his hand. "Of course." His crystal blue eye seems to gleam.

As the door shuts behind you and you walk down the corridors towards your quarters, you examine your fingers. You had never before noticed how cold your hands actually were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmk any grammatical errors + other please!  
> other than that this is a disclaimer that i LOVED taikasus before i watched this movie, so imma just say that his characterization of the characters are top tier imo and i'll be going off of those more so than the previous two thor films. also when i say slow burn i mean s l o w


	3. to think

To be frank, you hadn’t been feeling too hot for the past two days. In fact, for someone who does practically nothing except the bare necessities of eating and sleeping, you’ve been getting the worse luck.

The night before, you’d gone to take a nice bath and stripped down completely only to find that the water barely reached lukewarm temperature, and that after the water went up only twenty centimeters in the tub, it just happened to stop entirely. At first you panicked, thinking you wasted the last of the water supply, but when the faucet poured, you just sighed. Now, you knew you weren’t going to get top-notch service but for a spaceship this size you thought there would be at least some kind of standard.

Secondly, you’d fallen ill earlier yesterday too, feeling drowsy (more so than usual), with a throbbing headache in the center of your forehead and a strange thrum in your chest. You laid in bed for the majority of yesterday, contemplating death. Worst part of it all, you aren’t exactly sure as to what caused your ailment, considering the sterile environment, but you had an inkling it had to do with your interactions with Korg’s slug best friend.

It _couldn’t_ have been due to your little (almost) saliva swapping moment with Thor because you had dodged that through slim measures. Although, you could definitely imagine yourself telling people the god of thunder gave you a cold since that’s just rich. It’s final though, you had said aloud under all your blankets whilst sweating heavily, Miek is dead to me. Good health? A privilege, at best.

And thirdly, and most likely the most terrible, you had a dream about Thor last night. A fortunately _uneventful_ dream that still made you a tad uncomfortable. You played the dream over and over again in your head, trying to uncover any hidden nuances, but to no avail. It was simply an oddly intimate dream that one sometimes had about strangers that made no obvious sense.

In the dream, you’d been kneeling on a bed (his bed? You shiver at the thought.) and he was lying down comfortably in front of you, eyes closed. There was no physical interaction, and you recall just… talking. As time passed you found yourself struggling to remember the details, but the sense of calm that washed over you in your dream was unbelievably real. Odd.

He had said something in the dream— what did he say? Something about Asgard. He was probably talking about Asgard again and how wondrous his home used to be.

You blow the hair out of your face, and wipe at your eyes. There was no point in dwelling on that— you didn’t want to needlessly distort a relationship with your imaginations.

Part of you wished to go to the canteen and grab something to eat, but your fatigue held you back. You hoped to sweat the cold out as quickly as possible by locking yourself indefinitely in your room.

It didn’t help that your excitement in regards to the ship’s Wi-Fi was shortlived either upon the remembrance that you had left all your devices back in your apartment on Sakaar. It was a genuine pity that you’d left most of your belongings on that abandoned planet, knowing that you can never again return for your property. You’d left some pretty gnarly items back there too, like a nice red poncho and your collection of mugs. It broke your heart to realize you’d never see those things again.

It was still strange to you, to think that Wi-Fi was prevalent enough to be programmed in government ships, albeit discreetly. That meant, of course, only one good possibility took place: Sakaar was secretly ridden with humans. That, or the Sakaarans knew of human technology. Either way, it upset you to a degree to know there was a community like such and you were never once invited to join. You fume quietly.

There was also a side of you that was scared of returning to Earth, for how can you rebuild your life now? Starting anew on Sakaar was tiring enough, and to do it again on Earth, to be a stranger on your own planet? You groaned into your pillow. Where would you live and work? That potato farmer life never sounded so good.

You shouldn’t be complaining— at least you had an actual record of your existence to rely on. All these Asgardians are going to be regarded as illegal aliens, and you know how strict Earth is with that considering all these alleged global attacks.

In substitute of a blog, you resorted to using a journal to write down your day to day, as it might be really incredible to read back and reflect on this time, you think. This idea came to you when you found an empty booklet with a torn cover while rummaging through the closet and finding lost items of past individuals living in the room.

You pull the booklet out and with a brush pen, you write the _#1_ on the upper right corner of the page. You’re surprised to realize it has been only a few days onboard. It felt like eternity, a cycle of nothing.

 _Hi,_ you write. _It’s me._ You write your full name, and mentally vow to not write anything embarrassing in the journal, in case anyone but yourself were to uncover it. You lay down the bare facts.

_Uneventful time… which is good. They say it might be a while before we reach Earth, but thankfully we’ve got enough supplies to last us. A little concerned about the future but who isn’t?_

You think for a moment before continuing. _Think I came down with a cold or something. Hope I don’t die. Oh! And met the leaders of the ship the other day. Nice fellows I think._

With this last thoughts, you shut the booklet loudly and tuck it underneath your mattress. That’s probably enough for the day, and you wouldn’t be surprised if every day was just as chill. It’s good to a degree you must confess, considering all the meaningless labor you did on Sakaar just to get by, but after a while you began to feel somewhat lost. After all, you were a creature of habit just as most people are.

You cooping yourself up like a hen on an egg wasn’t healthy you acknowledge, but you couldn’t find any incentive to talk to anyone today. You chew your bottom lip testily, deep in thought.

Your stomach rumbled. Sighing, you swing your legs off the bed. Maybe you should get a little exercise after being bedridden. As you stand up, you immediately feel yourself become lightheaded and woozy, your vision fading in and out of clarity.

You wince, squeezing your eyes shut and feeling the walls to the closet where you grab your shoes and jacket. Until you feel levelheaded, you attempt to blindly put on your outerwear. As you walk to the door, you take a long hard look at yourself in the mirror.

You look awful. Your hair is ruffled from tossing and turning, and your eye bags are especially dark today; your pupils seem to shake slightly. How is that possible when you’ve slept for over fifteen hours? You splash icy water on your face to help revive yourself, but it doesn’t seem to help much. Your hair does look a little better after some brushing though.

The brightly lit corridor hurts your eyes so you squint as you walk down to the cantina, making your plan of attack as you go. Just grab something and go. Maybe check out the pantry if they let you. You’re somewhat sure Korg or Bruce will let you in, but if it’s Thor or Loki, you’re better off not asking all together. Valkyrie was the wild card in this scenario it seemed. And if it was Heimdall, the all-seeing one… well. All bets would be off.

You take a sharp inhale as you reach the bustling main hall, and sigh in relief seeing that you just missed a mealtime so the crowd would camouflage you. Sliding your way to the front, your smile vanished seeing the distributor was closed. Damn. You turn around, trying to recall whether you had an extra package of beans in your room or a roll of bread in your chambers.

You don’t hear anyone call your name until you feel a hand on your shoulder. To this, you whirl around.

“Hey,” says Bruce, “are you alright?”

You shrug sheepishly. “I’m getting by. How are you?”

“I’m fine, but did you just miss lunch? Or is it dinner?”

“Lunch, I think, but it’s alright,” you say.

“I managed to swipe a plum, do you want it? I feel bad– Thor’s friend is really strict about food.” Heimdall?

“Oh,” you blink at him. “That’s really nice of you, are you sure? What about you?“

He shakes his head. "I’m not that hungry.”

“Wow, thanks, seriously.”

“It’s no problem– you look like you’ve been through a lot, what’s going on?”

You two find a seat by the wall as you talk. “I’m pretty sick now, I don’t want to infect you, actually. I have no idea where it came from.” The audacity of the hall begins to die down gradually as people leave for their quarters. “What about you? Have you been able to use the Wi-Fi? By the way, thank you _so_ much for activating it.” You take a big bite of the soft plum-like fruit. It’s tangy.

“Yeah, I’m not sure why it was disabled or why they even have that kind of signal on Sakaar. But no, I haven’t really accessed the bandwidth yet— the whole ship is programmed in a different code.” Bruce lifts his shoulders then drops them. “You wouldn’t happen to know how to reprogram it, would you?”

You shake your head. “I was only doing maintenance checkups on the vehicles, I don’t think I could completely override a ship, sorry.”

He waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t be. We’re on track, either way.”

Bruce hums, a comfortable silence that was only penetrated by the sound of you chewing filled the air between you.

Out of the blue, you sigh, looking down at your hands. “I should’ve chosen an actual transport ship.”

He gives you a surprised look. “Are you joking? The fact that you came just in time with a ship at all is incredible, seriously.”

You hold the half-eaten plum gingerly, rotating it around. “Yeah, still. It must be really difficult for you guys right now.”

“Listen,” he responds, “the second Earth shows up on our radar, we’re in the black. Right now, we’re– give or take– fifty thousand light years away, but hey, we’ll make it eventually.” You two crack a somewhat bitter smile together.

“I really hate space travel,” you mumble, resting your head against the cold metal walls.

“Agreed,” he says. And after a moment, he continues. “After all this ends and everything is sorted out, what do you want to do?”

“I don’t really know,” you admit, “I still want to go into the city but I don’t know if I _afford_ that right now.” It was true– even tiny NYC studio apartments in a good location probably cost a sickening amount at this point. “Plus, I’m going to have to get a job.” Somehow you don’t think you can go back to your life before on Earth anymore, which both relieved and stressed you.

“What do you like to do?”

You furrow your eyebrows, thinking hard. “Honestly? No idea. But I’ve always wanted a really relaxed life, you know what I mean? That probably sounds really boring, but–”

“No, I know exactly what you mean,” he says. “In my line of work that’s kind of tricky though.”

You nod. It’s definitely not easy being astrophysicist you suppose– that physics course back in high school was almost detrimental to your health. “I bet. I also don’t really know how difficult it is to get a job in New York, so that’s going to be tough.” You completed your education, but after disappearing and having no record for years– you can only imagine how that will appear when you go in to get interviewed.

“Don’t worry about that,” says Bruce, getting up suddenly. “We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

“You’re too nice,” you say, shaking your head and taking his outstretched hand to hoist you up. “Why is that?”

“It’s better for everyone that way, I think.”

You drop your plum core down the chute, licking your fingers. “I might go back to my room now. Bruce, it was really nice talking to you.” And it was wholly true. You feel some stress lift off your shoulders.

He smiles at you in lieu of a farewell, but when he leaves for the main control room, you continue to loiter around the canteen for a bit, picking up whatever piece of trash you spot and tossing them into the chute. You’re genuinely grateful Bruce Banner is out there giving you advice and being generally open to your presence. Maybe you _were_ just making it worse for yourself. You try not to be a Debbie Downer all the time, but sometimes when you’re faced with the reality that you must restart your life again, it gets a bit discouraging.

The sound of your footsteps through the silence is almost therapeutic. Almost.

The pounding in your head begins again as you walk towards your quarters, and fluorescent lights above just seem to glare brighter. Massaging your temples, you lean your arm against the wall and keep your eyes downcast for a few seconds, or what felt like eons.

“I don’t deserve this,” you grumble to yourself.

“And why’s that?”

You glance up and you find yourself face-to-face with Loki, watching you with arms crossed and an amused countenance. You can’t tell if his eyes are blue or green.

You pull away from the wall. “Sorry, I have a headache right now, that’s all.”

He clicks his tongue, and you brace yourself for some biting remark on how weak humans are. Except he doesn’t say anything like that, instead asking, “How bad is it?”

You pause, wondering whether if what you say could be held against you. “Feels like I need to nap for ten years at the least.”

He scans his eyes over your figure, before extending his hand to your head. “Hold still.”

You reel back immediately before he touches you. “Hold still? What are you doing?”

He grimaces. “I’m trying to help you. Will you allow me or not?”

Stiffly, you nod and shut your eyes, bracing yourself for _something,_ anything. Your hands ball up defensively.

Nothing comes, except light laughter.

“What are _you_ doing?”

You open your eyes, and Loki’s smirking down at you, brows quirked up.

“You closed your eyes,” he muses, “I’m not trying to kiss you, mortal.”

You feel your ears burn. “I know that! It was subconscious.” You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him you actually expected him to punch you square in the nose instead.

He doesn’t think much of your response, and instead goes ahead with his performance. In one quick light tap of his fingers to your forehead, the pressure in your head seems to dissipate.

You stare up at him with wide eyes. “Oh my God?”

“Yes?” He withdraws his hand.

“How did you do that? Actually, don’t answer that.” You press a hand to your forehead– and just as you expected, it’s no longer flaming hot. “This is insane, thank you.”

He looks away and moves to the side. “Don’t mention it.”

Loki starts to walk away but before you know it you call out to him. As you do, he pauses but doesn’t turn around.

“Why are you over in this wing? I never see you around here,” you say.

He turns his head. “I’m not allowed to enter this wing now?”

You frown. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

"You’d be surprised at who your neighbors are then,” he answers, simply. You watch him walk further away at an accelerating pace, until he’s practically jogging and then he disappears around the corner.

Your shoulders tense up. If he’d been suggesting that he lived in the room beside you, then how come you never saw him ever enter nor exit? Maybe he was nocturnal– you certainly wouldn’t doubt it if it was possible in space.

Nothing surprised you anymore. You did wonder as to why he booked it so fast just now, though– as if he’d been running from something.

Now that you think about it, you’re surprised two people did you a favor today. You puff up your cheeks, blowing air slowly out of your cheeks. You wonder how you should repay them? Bruce appeared to be a naturally kind but enigmatic guy, but Loki has only been distant since you two met all those days ago. 

You also wonder if it’s unhealthy to want to be friends with them all, but you shake your head. When all this is over, you’re going to New York, and they’re– well, you don’t know where Loki and Thor and the other Asgardians are going, but definitely not there. Maybe Norway. You doubt you’ll see any of them again. 

They’ve been through a lot, you muse, turning the corner, maybe I should really do something nice for them for once–

You suddenly slam into something, and as you fall backwards from the impact, you yelp. Loudly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ik no mister thor odinson in this chp but buildup is necc! besides he's got the rest of the whole series to canoodle with the reader more so it's fine  
> BY THE WAY, i hardly read fics myself so i never quite understood why ppl say thor is underappreciated but i realized yall are right and thats so sad hes a big beefy dweeb whats not to love:-(


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